


Nebula-Hearted

by Ariasune



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Ensemble - Freeform, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 14:40:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12390138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ariasune/pseuds/Ariasune
Summary: One by one, the Paladins settle.[ HIATUS -01/06/19]





	1. Wolfdog

They’re four kids. Four, unsettled, uncertain looking kids, staring at him for guidance, and that more than anything _scares the shit_ out of Shiro. Keith, Keith-- he’s familiar with that look, and Hae-mosu’s accompanying stare. The first day Keith had arrived at their family home, he’d had that stare, Hae-mosu a bristly wildcat under one arm, and a plastic bag of clothes in the other hand. It’s familiar, in that same daunting way; Keith pointing along his map of the desert, leading with answers and ending with questions.

The other three, though--

“Lance, right?” Shiro holds a hand out, Sakuya pressing against his side. There’s a hesitation, eyes dropping, before Lance takes his hand.

“Lance,” he confirms. “And this is Novinja-- Nova.” He rolls his shoulder so Shiro can see his dæmon as she morphs from some vivid teal butterfly, to a glossy looking squirrel monkey. Lance looks certain in a way he shouldn't, the way young cadets look when you first pull them out of the simulator: oblivious to the weight of gravity.

Shiro’s own dæmon steps out from where she is pressed against his leg, lifting her muzzle to sniff politely in Nova's direction. “Sakuya-hime,” Shiro introduces the arctic wolf, instinctively reaching for the rough mantle of fur at the nape of her neck. His fingers tighten in her guard. “Sakuya.”

“Nervous guy’s Hunk,” the smallest one doesn’t hesitate to take his hand. “I’m Pidge. This is Lilit.”

“Elei, but--” Hunk’s dæmon starts, before Hunk cuts her off.

“But Ellie's fine. Anyway. Yeah, sorry to interrupt,” Hunk points towards the window, “but back to the aliens. Where are they now? Are they coming? Are they coming for all of us?” Ellie’s ears are swivelling in every direction, perched awkwardly on Hunk’s shoulder as a bat. “Like. Where are they at this very moment?”

“We can’t really put it together...” Shiro combs his hand through Sakuya’s fur, uncomfortably familiar with the lumps of metal embedded under her spine. He trails off.

Sakuya doesn’t lose their place, merely begins speaking: “We remember the word Voltron.” She licks Shiro’s _real_ fingertips, and Shiro slowly comes back to her, rubbing his hand in her dust-streaked fur. She’s not really white at this point, just a mucky looking grey and gold. Her dark eyes look around the group. “It’s some kind of weapon they’re looking for, but we don’t know why.”

Ellie startles in a scurry of shapes. “They? Who’s--”

“Uh, hey, well, last night, I was rummaging through Pidge’s stuff,” Hunk holds up a photograph of Matt, and his sister, Katie. Shiro keeps his eyes on Hunk, but Sakuya turns her dark, dark eyes to _Pidge_.  “And I found this picture. Look, it’s his girlfriend.”

“Give us that-” Lilit hisses at Ellie sharply, and Sakuya chuffs with amusement, turning back to Shiro. Her tail sweeps against Shiro's leg, thumping gently; some of Sakuya's wolfdog showing itself. The kids are distracted though, Ellie darting about in the air around Lilit, flicker-shaping from bat to moth to mayfly. Lilit, however, is still and steady, a green snake looped over Katie's shoulders.

First they talk of candy, then they talk of science, and Sakuya turns her dark, deep attention to Katie.  _She's settled_ , Shiro marvels for a moment,  _three unsettled_ _kids, and one settled one_. Settled or not, Katie is the youngest here, and Shiro is not comforted that  _she_ knows who she is; if anything, that worries him a little more.

“Frown… who?” Keith adjusts Hae-mosu in his arms as he fades from fox to wildcat.

“It’s a number describing the emission spectrum of an element,” Ellie says, like it’s the most plainly obvious thing in the world. She's some sort of gerbil now, hanging onto Hunk's sleeve. “Only this element does _not_ exist on Earth.”

“And I thought it might be this Voltron.” Hunk, and Ellie’s conversation flows between them, and Shiro catches the faintest impression of envy, and he doesn’t know _why_.

“And we think we can build a machine to look for it, kinda like a--” Ellie looks at Hunk from her place on his sleeve.

“Like a Voltron Geiger Counter.”

“Hunk, you big, gassy genius!” Across from them, Nova loops her squirrel-monkey tail around Lance’s neck, before sliding into his arms that fills Shiro with a pang of grief he can't  _name_. He leans in towards Sakuya and she's a heavy weight, as always.

There’s a flash of feathers, only slightly pre-empted by Keith saying, “Give me that.” Hae-mosu snatches the paper from Hunk, perching onto Keith's shoulder, offering the paper to Keith with a sharp corvid beak. Once again, Shiro is unsettled by the knowledge these are four young teenagers -- yes, okay, not so young, not all that young, old enough to be here. Keith is emancipated from the foster system.  _No_ , Shiro realizes. It's been a year, and Keith is eighteen. Lance, and Hunk cannot be too far behind. Katie is, well she is far too young to be here, but Lilit is a settled dæmon.

Sakuya is a proud weight against his thigh, and Shiro straightens his spine. "Keith, can you lead us there?"

Hae-mosu and Keith don't hesitate, merely nod and turn towards the exit.

* * *

They find the blue lion, they find the castle, they find Allura, who sends them back out into the stars. As Shiro and Katie pad through the undergrowth of an alien world, Sakuya is panting, ragged and noisily, but Lilit looks at home in the wet heat of the rainforest.

More at home than Katie, which makes Shiro smile.

Unsure how to address the matter, he finally just asks: "Is your dæmon a rainforest species?"

"Huh?" Katie looks over her shoulder, but not for long, gaze still mostly on her handhold reader. Shiro nods at Lilit, looped lazily around Katie's arms. "Oh right. Yeah. She's a Green Tree Python. You're an Arctic Wolf, right?"

Sakuya's breath is in tatters, heavy, and trailing behind them at a growing distance. "Mostly," she huffs out.

"She's a wolfdog," Shiro explains, smiling wryly, "and she's not loving this heat."

"Nope," Sakuya agrees, rasping.

The party goes back into silence for some time, before Shiro decides to nudge Katie again. Gently, not pushing. He doesn't want to alarm her by knowing before she's ready to tell him.

"When did she settle?"

"...you noticed?"

Some people are obvious in it. Blatant. Katie and Lilit are more subtle, but it's still there, so Shiro just shrugs apologetically. "Sorry."

Katie seems to accept that, focused on trudging through the undergrowth. "A year then."

A year, Shiro looks back at Sakuya, unable to help turning towards her. Sakuya has fallen deeply behind, fur almost wet from the humidity, tongue lolling, and her eyes roll up to meet Shiro's.

A year ago, the Kerberos Mission failed.

* * *

The Black Lion is imperious, and Sakuya wraps around Shiro's side when the lion roars in command. Imperious, even demanding, the lion calls Shiro forward, and Sakuya stands apart from him, metal riddling down her spine, and down Shiro's shoulder.

Connecting with the Lion is one thing, it leaves Shiro's stomach swimming a little, but connecting with the team -- _the_   _pride_ , the lion purrs through his veins -- brings it sharply into focus.

Shiro can feel Pidge, and through her, Lilit. Her scales, and deception, and patience. Shiro can feel the others too, their unsettled dæmons swimming in Shiro's awareness.

Shiro cannot feel Sakuya-hime.

* * *

The team knows, but they part to let Shiro through, Sakuya trotting to heel. Her white coat shines with dust, and metal, and somewhere in Shiro's tangling psyche, he realizes, he will never hear her voice sweet from the inside again. Somewhere, he realizes, it is for the best.

They were cut away to fight one another in the Arena, and Shiro remembers parts of it; Sakuya's snapping teeth on his skin, Shiro's metal fingers tight around her throat.

"I only want to remember it once," Sakuya says softly, huddling against Shiro in the darkness of their new room. "I'm glad I don't have to remember it through you."

"Me too," Shiro strokes her fur, rubbing the base of her ears. "I love you."

She doesn't answer right away, but she does answer: "and I you."


	2. Slender Mongoose

Hae-mosu is wild. Vicious, and wild, and  _his_.

Kogane Ki-tae (he really hates that name), and Hae-mosu (who has no strong opinions on names) have been together forever.

When Ki-tae's mother - and was she his mother? Really his mother? His senses are turning to sludge, memories thick like tar - told him to wait for her on JR Kyobashi trainline, but never came back, never came, never came for him, until someone saw a four year old sitting on the train, dæmon quiet in his lap.

When Koga had met Shiro - Takashi, Takashi who didn't ask him to talk, didn't ask them not to shout and screech, but instead led martial art forms by example - Hae-mosu was a wildcat under Koga's arm, a slender timberwolf at Koga's heel, a quiet fossa sitting under Koga's school desk.

When Keith had joined the garrison - "Hae-mosu." "You should pick an English name, the garrison is in the US--" "If they can learn to say Pantalaimon, they can learn to say Hae-mosu." - his dæmon had been there filling out forms, secured in the harness of the simulator, learning and getting stronger with Keith.

The Blade of Marmora did not have dæmons.

* * *

Galra had dæmons, always the same sinuous shape, and always  _difficult_ to distinguish, sometimes spotting with dark smoke. Keith has even seen one go up in smoke, when they fought for the jar of quintessence.

Allura calls them druids. Allura says that Galra only have one shape, and that they grow with their dæmons, that they were born knowing they were Galra, and together they learn who they were.

But not one member of the Blade of Marmora has a dæmon.

At first, moving deeper into the hidden base, Keith thought perhaps they were simply elsewhere; Galra dæmons could wander far, like a witch-dæmon could. Still, Shiro and Keith went deeper, further in, and there were no druids, no smoke-fog, no telltale. Surely there would be at least one?

Keith didn't want to ask, and neither did Shiro, but Hae-mosu was vicious and wild. A lighting flare of tiger, as they pin Keith down and take his knife from him.

"Where are your druids?" Hae-mosu shouts. "You ask us to trust you, but we cannot see a single soul here!"

Kolivan's knife is bright, and dark all at once.

"Zarkon's witch sees in the smoke," Kolivan's knife is terribly bright, terribly dark, "so we cut them open."

When they give it back to him, Keith's knife is terrible, and dark too.

* * *

Shiro tells him to give up the knife. Shiro tells him that he is being selfish. Shiro leaves him, as Keith pleads with Shiro that he needs to do this. Hae-mosu is quiet, curled against Keith's chest.

Keith's father tells him to take the knife. Keith's father tells him to take the knife, and open Hae-mosu up. Keith's father tells him that if he wants this, if he wants to know who is mother really is, he will do this. Hae-mosu is quiet, curled against Keith's chest.

* * *

Shiro has come and been and come again. His father has come and been and gone again and Red is roaring through Keith's mind, tearing the base piece from piece. Shiro holds him up, supporting his weight.

"Stop what you're doing," he's told by a faceless, maskless, soulless blade.

Hae-mosu is  _screaming_ , flickering shape to shape as Shiro lifts Keith to his feet. The knife is heavy in his hands, and there is dust and blood all over the floor.

"What are you talking about?" Keith's hands are heavy too, covered in dust and blood. "What's going on?"

"Call off your beast!"  _Red_.

"We're leaving."

Shiro's voice is flat, and cold, furious. Furious as the time Keith took his hoverboard off the school roof. Keith had fallen, dropping through the air with the weight of a child, Hae-mosu shrieking. He'd been covered in cuts, and bruises as Shiro helped him up.

Shiro was holding Keith up. Steadying him.

His hands were coated with golden blood, and Hae-mosu was  _crying_.

"You're not leaving with that blade." Kolivan's voice is stronger than Shiro's, cutting over Hae-mosu's wailing. "It does not belong to you. You failed to awaken it."

Keith couldn't cut Hae-mosu open. Hae-mosu is writhing on the floor, spilling dust and changing shapes. The knife sleeps in Keith's hand, dissatisfied. Shiro drops Keith, rushing forward to meet the opponent and defend Keith from his own mistakes.

"Wait!" Hae-mosu is panting, gulping for air, gold and red and gold. Keith holds the knife out. "Just take the knife." The room pauses, save Hae-mosu gasps, and the shake of Red tearing the base apart. "It doesn't matter where I come from; I know who I am."

Hae-mosu settles. Sinuous, and smoke-like in shape. His fur is russet, and his eyes are as gold as Galra-eyes, and the knife is alive and awake in Keith's hand.

He casts it aside, and drops to his knees, bringing his trembling dæmon to his chest. Hae-mosu is shaking, and bleeding dust, and a slender mongoose, and his. Hae-mosu is _his_.


End file.
